


looking forward

by writerlily



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 20:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12020673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerlily/pseuds/writerlily
Summary: The red door.It's what Daenerys immediately thinks of when she meets the Lady of Winterfell. Sansa, is her name, with blue eyes and hair the color of the home Dany once knew.





	looking forward

The red door. 

It's what Daenerys immediately thinks of when she meets the Lady of Winterfell. Sansa, is her name, with blue eyes and hair the color of the home Dany once knew. 

She's seen red in blood blood-- her own, and that of others-- and in fire, but nothing has made her miss home more than looking at Sansa. 

She's courteous. The perfect picture of grace and respect, although Daenerys is certain than Sansa wants nothing more than for everyone to leave her beloved north. 

Daenerys finds herself sympathizing with the woman. From what she's learned from her advisors, Sansa's journey in the game of thrones had been filled with pain and death. Unable to go home and being held captive by those who would rather see her harmed than safe is something that Daenerys finds herself painfully relating to. 

"She's beautiful," Dany looks to Jon standing beside her, wearing thick furs and looking more comfortable than he ever did in the south. She turns back to Sansa, showing Tyrion where he is to be sleeping. Red wisps of hair flow from the hood of her cloak. _Kissed by fire_. 

Jon tilts his head at Dany. "Yes, your grace, she is," he says curiously. 

Daenerys invites Sansa to her solar for dinner. It is customary for parties and lavish feasts to be thrown in the event of a royal family visiting, but Dany thinks that this setting will be just fine. After all, the party will still go on, and she's sure that Tyrion will make all the best out of free booze and food. 

Sansa arrives to Dany's room in a simple, grey dress, that sweeps the floor when she walks. She's hesitant-- Daenerys can tell-- but she's quick to assure the Stark woman that she means no harm. Will probably _never_ mean her any harm, if Dany can help it. 

"Jon tells me you long for northern independence," Dany says as Sansa sips at a spoonful of soup. Her sleeve threatens to dip into the bowl. Daenerys tentatively reaches out to pull her sleeve back. 

Sansa stills-- doesn't flinch, or pull away-- and she looks at Daenerys' pale hand. "We used to be kings," she replies, placing her spoon down. Dany pulls her arm back, placing her hand in her lap, her fingers buzzing. "We northerners have no interests in southern court and politics."

"The last king was Robb Stark," Daenerys says. A flash of pain passes through Sansa's eyes. "The young wolf."

Sansa exhales. "I understand you grew up with a brother as well, your grace."

"Viserys," she smiles, though there's no warmth or affection. She looks down at her cup, the liquid a warm golden color, similar to that which was poured on her _dear_ brother's head. "He was not half the man your brother was, if the things Jon told me hold to be true."

Sansa looks surprised at Daenerys' candor. She brings her napkin up to her lips, gently patting them. Her lips are pink and soft looking, like a flower bud. Daenerys clears her throat and takes a drink-- a _long_ one-- of her ale. 

A servant enters the room. He places a plate down on the table and uncovers it, revealing four little cakes with lemon slices on top. Daenerys inhales sharply. 

"I had them made for you," the corner of Sansa's lip turns down when she sees Dany's face. "I'll have them sent away, if you do not like lemons, apologies for my mistake," she attempts to put the cover back on the plate.

For the second time that night, Daenerys reaches for Sansa. This time, it's the northern woman's hand, and Dany squeezes it. She can almost smell the tree that was right outside her bedroom window. 

_If I look back, I am lost._

But she's not lost, is she? Not right now, not with Sansa sitting in front of her, meaning her no harm, or telling her lies. 

"They're perfect," her voice threatens to break and she clears her throat. "It's been years since I had lemons."

Sansa's smile is sad as she serves Daenerys one on a plate. "My father would have the cooks make them for me whenever I pleased," she pauses before adding, "which was all the time."

Daenerys laughs as she cuts a small piece with her fork and shoves it into her mouth. The flavor bursts into sour and sweet and she smiles. For the first time, thinking of that red door and that lemon tree from her old life doesn't hurt. And she has Sansa to thank for that. 

"I do not wish to cause another war," Daenerys rolls a piece of cake around on her plate with her fork. Sansa stops mid chew to look up. "We have seen enough blood and death for a lifetime. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I would, your grace," Sansa says after she hastily swallows her food. There's a crumb lingering by her mouth and Daenerys faintly smiles. 

"You said you northerners used to be kings," Dany tilts her head. "And if you were to be queen?" 

Sansa briefly furrows her brows, then realization dawns upon her. "I would not interfere with the south," she responds, and Dany can see the gears turning in her head. She's smart-- incredibly so-- and it's no wonder that the woman has managed to stay alive this long in a world like theirs. "I have little interest in what goes on in King's Landing, and especially little interest in who sits the iron throne."

She means she has no plans to make a move for the throne, now or ever, but Daenerys is hardly threatened by it. Sansa is a queen in her own right, as the people of the north are fiercely loyal to her. Daenerys has to be smart, but a part of herself tells her that she can trust the Stark woman and what she says. 

"Little interest in me as well?" Daenerys glances at Sansa's lips for what seems like the millionth time that night. Sansa blushes as red as her hair and _oh_ , she is a fair maiden indeed. 

"You know what I mean," Sansa rolls her eyes, but a smile is playing at her lips. A smile that doesn't seem as forced, or cold as when Daenerys first arrived and it melts away some of the sadness that lingers over her shoulders. 

Sansa-- albeit rather shyly-- slides her hand across the table, food and cakes forgotten. Daenerys is warm as she places her hand in Sansa's, feeling something she hasn't felt in years. 

"To start anew, we must be different," Sansa says, staring at their hands locked together. 

"And we will be," Daenerys promises.

**Author's Note:**

> i was super emotional writing this? anyway i hoped you enjoyed reading! let me know what you thought :) thanks!


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